


You Don't Always Have to be Alone

by TheWaitingFangirl



Series: OC Drabbles [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, May be tringgering for people with anxiety, Pre-Canon Relationship, Sad Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6149012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaitingFangirl/pseuds/TheWaitingFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan felt it tugging at him again.</p><p>The painful breathe takes that came with his anxiety, fingertips digging uselessly into the polished white ceramic of the sink as he tried to steady himself, looking at his own — brown — eyes reflected in the mirror.</p><p>Yet, he couldn’t recognize himself.</p><p>Ethan closed the water faucet with trembling hands, feeling the tears come to his eyes, but he didn’t actually care. For now, it was just a matter of fact. Irrelevant.</p><p>Wasn’t it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Always Have to be Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Just something stupid I wrote for my Original Characters. I read it more than 50 times and I'm honestly anxious about posting it. I kinda felt like writing something where the anxiety is seen under the eyes of the person who experiences it, without the medical therms and how they and the people around him deal with this disorder. It sounds silly, but I thought it was interessant to write something like that.
> 
> Behold, my shitty writing.

 Ethan felt it tugging at him again.

The painful breathe takes that came with his anxiety, fingertips digging uselessly into the polished white ceramic of the sink as he tried to steady himself, looking at his own — brown — eyes reflected in the mirror.

Yet, he _couldn_ _’t_ recognize himself.

Ethan closed the water faucet with trembling hands, feeling the tears come to his eyes, but he didn’t actually care. For now, it was just a matter of fact. _Irrelevant._

Wasn’t it?

He didn’t know. He felt unsure and scared and so he sighed, noticing how hard he had been clenching the tap of the faucet and stared at his whitened knuckles, slowly letting it go.

Maybe he was losing his mind.

“Are you alright in there?” Ethan heard a muffled voice coming from the other side of the door, followed by a soft knock. “Do you need something?” Elizabeth tried to enter the room, but he had locked the door. “Ethan?”

Ethan gulped his feelings down, staring at himself once more. Tears. He frowned impatiently as he wiped them away with the back of his hand as best as he could, pinching his cheeks to mask the evident paleness that came with the — now — recent attacks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in just a minute.” He was in his mid-twenties and yet, he was acting like a freshman in his first year of college.

_Pitiful._

Ethan put on his best fake smile, easing down his shoulders and fixing his jacket. She didn’t deserve that and he knew it. To know about… about this mess. _His_ mess.

But Ella was unrelenting, like a natural disaster, he mused once. She never went easy on him, always asking too many questions and double checking things. Sometimes, it was suffocating. But other times… it could be oddly pleasant. It was his guilty and hidden pleasure, truly. And a flaw, of course — he loved to see how much she cared for him. Ethan felt selfish in a weird way; as if he didn’t deserve her company, much less her care or attention and yet he accepted it.

A last check in the mirror and he was ready to face her. Ethan felt his anxiety kick in, making him hesitate as soon as he grasped at the door handle. Maybe she would be mad at him. What if she was mad? He hated it when she was mad at him.

Elizabeth knocked again, this time more insistently. “ _Fuck_ , Ethan. Can you just open the _damn_ door?” the woman demanded. He snickered, letting the grin settle on his lips and pulled the door open and as soon as he saw her face, her eyes started analyzing him.

Oh, he enjoyed this little game. He mockingly called it “ _how fucking far can you pretend, Ethan?_ ” to test himself and the tatters he called nerves. And so he frowned, pulling the smile a bit more as he looked down at the tiny girl as her honeyed eyes met his.

“Why were you crying?” Ella asked nonchalantly, although he knew how worried she was.

Ethan shrugged, gaze drifting downwards towards his feet. “I don’t know.”

The woman stayed silent for a while worrying her lip between teeth until she asked in a tiny voice, barely louder than a whisper “was it the thing again?” and there it was.

Ethan chuckled humorlessly, tipping his head to the side and daring to look up in her eyes — just to notice how filled with worry they were. He nodded, speaking softly “yeah”.

The girl frowned her lips and just before she said something Ethan fled towards the living room, flopping himself onto the couch. He wasn’t really feeling like convincing her today or pretending anymore. His hand reached out for the phone, hitting a few digits before asking “do you want pizza? I’m feeling a bit like thai, but—“

“Stop that.” Ella cut him off, taking his phone from his hand. She was pouting slightly — a thing the girl does whenever she's upset although she doesn’t know it — Ethan thought it was adorable. “You always do that.”

He looked up at her, feeling slightly annoyed. “Do what?” he sighed, leaning backwards against the couch. “I’m hungry. Can we order food?”

“You won’t get away this time, Ethan Jones.” Ella stated firmly, her face a pure mask of annoyance. Ethan decided it was better if he didn’t look at her, his gaze rested on the window of the living room. “You're always… dodging.” She sighed, sitting beside him — mindful of leaving a gap between them. He noticed the sun was setting already. “You never let me or anyone get close enough. You're always hiding or saying something else, to make people forget about it and it’s just…” the girl pursed her lips, voice cracking slightly. Ethan felt his heart clench painfully, noticing he had been grasping at the armrest of the couch hard enough so his knuckles would turn white again and he unwillingly let go of it. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

Ethan wanted to turn around and crack up a joke to ease the mood of the conversation, tell her that he was fine and maybe — just _maybe_ — make her order thai instead of pizza — he knew how much she hated thai.

But he couldn’t do that.

_Why?_

He didn’t know. Maybe he was tired of running away, maybe his patience was gone; hell, maybe even both.

So, he stayed silent for what seemed like an eternity. Ella did the same, although he couldn’t see what she was doing. And he sighed, closing his eyes and quaking out in a tiny voice a scared “I don’t know”. He felt the anxiety crawl its way under his skin, making his eyes burn with tears once more. “ _I don_ _’t know._ ”

He didn’t care what Ella would think, that maybe he looked fragile, lost or miserable. That maybe she would stop wanting to hang out with him if he showed that side of him, the bruised and needy-for-attention Ethan. He sobbed, bowing his head down and clenched his teeth, trying to control himself once again; his whole body shaking with the effort of not letting a sound out — or maybe he was just anxious for letting her see past the walls he so carefully put up.

Ethan just wanted the whole world to go away.

Ella bit her lip, watching as her best friend broke down right in front of her, feeling so powerless that she couldn’t work up the courage necessary to raise her voice and tell him something cliché that she knew he had heard many times in life; things that hadn’t helped anyone but the people who said it to feel slightly better with themselves — and she felt partially grateful for not saying anything. She knew he didn’t deserve this.

And so, she came closer.

Ethan more felt than saw her hand touching his shoulder gently and he jerked away, fingertips pressing where the girl had touched; he turned his head away, shrinking into the couch. Ethan didn’t want to talk or to have people pitying him again — maybe he should be alone — but he didn’t want to be alone neither. He felt tired and sick of being alone all the damn time — he feared that he’d start to lose his mind if he had to experience one more breakdown alone. 

He didn’t know what he wanted, he felt like people didn’t care and when they intended to care, he’d push them away as far as he could and dwell on his misery because they didn’t come after him. So far, nothing changed.

That is, until Elizabeth started to notice.

It started small. A few comments here, some questions there and before he  noticed she already knew. She got closer and closer and he didn’t have the time to stop the woman from it, nor did he truly want to stop her. Even if he denied it until the ends of the earth, she did understand him — and made him feel better. Ethan even started to joke with her, saying that one day there would be a hurricane named ‘Elizabeth’. She wouldn’t change now, he knew it, and he didn’t want her to change — she was her own natural disaster. Ella was one of a kind.

“ _I_ _’m s- sorry_ _…_ ” he sobbed out, giving up on pretending he wasn’t really crying. “ _I_ _’m so sorry... that I_ _…that_ _…_ ” Ethan felt his throat burn at the effort of speaking; he gulped down a steadying breath, pushing his dark hair back and grasping at it hard enough to cause pain. He wanted it all to stop, be able to open up, be able to seek help and be able to be _normal_ again. He didn’t sign up for this shit, he mostly certainly didn’t, but there he was. _Miserable_.

“Ethan…” she whispered, scooting closer to him on the worn out couch of the dimly lit living room. He felt her arm wrapping around his shoulders, pulling his shaking body into a warm and welcoming embrace and he felt grateful but uncertain. She smelled oddly like home, something comforting and subtle — a pleasant mix between vanilla, books and ink. “I’m not leaving.”

Ethan felt his heart clench painfully as on cue. She shouldn’t be comforting him now and that made him feel guilty… but one part of him — a really small side — felt grateful and relieved that she was there and willing to mend him together. “… I know… but... I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He mumbled out hesitantly.

“You don’t have to apologize.” She huffed and kissed his temple gently. Ethan closed his eyes briefly, letting her do as she pleased. _She is warm_ , he thought while nuzzling in the brownish tresses of Elizabeth’s hair. “I care too much about you to leave. You don't have to apologize for that.” She whispered while smoothing the hair at the back of his head.

Ethan was rather confused — in a pleasant way — by her actions. It wasn't something he was used to hear or to feel — he forgot how it was to have someone reassuring him — yet he couldn’t help but feel guilty for enjoying it. Maybe, at this point, she felt like comforting him was a task. Maybe Ella was tired of it and was just being nice to him. What if he was being a drag?

“Stop thinking.” Ella softly called, her hands slowly working on his scalp in a pleasant and gentle massage. Ethan slightly opened his eyes; vision still blurred by tears and stared at the shapeless soft brown of the girl’s hair. He was still anxious about letting her in — though he felt oddly nice when she was around — and so, he did what was obvious: he inhaled deeply and wrapped his arms around Elizabeth’s small torso and hid his face at the crook of her neck. “Stop digging your own grave, Ethan.”

Maybe she was right — maybe he was digging his own grave — but why couldn’t he stop it? Maybe he didn’t want to. But why? Again, he didn’t know and so he tried to find a suitable reason to justify his behavior — like he always did. What if he was an attention seeker? Or maybe he was addicted to the sensation of self-pity, despite his knowledge of how much he hates to feel this way. Ethan’s mind started to twirl and spin once more and he shut his eyes tightly.

“Just stop.” He felt Ella rubbing his arms with a gentle touch, whispering encouraging words into his ear and he noticed how much he was clinging to the back of the girl’s shirt and, embarrassed, he let go of it slowly; pressing his face even further into her neck. Ethan was sure he was being a drag but he knew she’d never admit it. Maybe she didn’t think of him as a drag, who knows? They always say something about one in a million — or something like it, right? “I’m here, don’t worry.” Elizabeth whispered softly, one of her hands coming up to the back of his head and Ethan jolted slightly, making the girl stop right away. “I’m sorry, do you want me to stop?”

“No, that’s not it…” he mumbled, trying to hold back a coy smile.

“What is it then?”

Ethan’s smile grew against her skin and he looked up at her worried expression — which only made him smile even more — and added quietly: “It tickles.”

The girl cackled a loud laugh, letting him go for a while “You are unbelievable, I swear.” She commented, cheerfully shaking her head and trying to hide the grin. Ethan smirked, looking at her with a soft expression and leaned against the girl. “I’m sorry.” He muttered shyly.

“Are you apologizing? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.” Elizabeth giggled childishly and coaxed him to lay his head on her lap; and when he looked up at her face he felt certain that for once something — better, someone — wouldn’t leave him. Ella smiled, a feather like touch stroking his hair; making him close his eyes and hum appreciatively. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” Ethan then sighed, pressing the side of his face to the girl’s stomach while she caressed his head softly. He felt the sensation of fatigue start to cling on his body, lulling him into a not-so-deep-nap, all uneasiness of earlier forgotten and left behind as if it didn’t happen at all — the only proof being his red and puffy eyes. Ethan knew because they still burned from the crying he didn’t remember to even start — and honestly, he couldn’t care less.

Right now, he wouldn’t think

“We still have to order thai, though…” Ella spoke nonchalantly while stretching to get a hold of his phone. “I’m kinda hungry, you know.”

Ethan giggled, shifting around to look at her while his laughter bubbled free. Such a party-pooper. “You eat a lot, you know that?”

“That’s because I’m still growing up.” Ella replied in false annoyance.

“Maybe” Ethan muttered casually and closed his eyes, getting comfortable again. “You are kinda short anyways…” He smirked and the girl sucked a breath in, pressing the phone against her chest.

“You are so mean sometimes.” She whispered mockingly, already searching for the number on his phone. He closed his eyes, listening to Elizabeth’s voice and focused on the tone of her voice when she talked formally and how she'd speak certain words she didn’t know how to pronounce and how she’d ask what every plate was — to make sure it wasn’t gross, she told him once. It was rather pleasing, he thought as he smirked. To be close to someone and feel their warmth and their touch — at some point, she lowered her hand, caressing the back of his head gently, which made him smile.

Then, at this moment, Ethan chose to let his guard down.


End file.
